Armor
by April29Roses
Summary: Arthur and Merlin spar about a wonderful hauberk. This little nugget of bromance follows the events of the story, the Morrigan.


ARMOR

THREE MONTHS AFTER THE EVENTS OF "THE MORRIGAN"

Merlin and Arthur were finishing breakfast together, as had become their custom. Guinevere preferred to be up early and be about, and on this particular morning was out in the garden. Arthur had squabbled over the last sausage, as he so often did, and Merlin had let him eat it. It was part of the game. The sorcerer was mentally reviewing insults about the results of piggishness.

Arthur's eyes had widened as he read a missive that had been laid next to his plate. A smile of undeniable pleasure flitted over his features, but Arthur promptly schooled himself into a more serious mien. He looked across to where his friend sat, and he smiled in his most imperious way.

"Go down to the armory and bring the package that awaits me there. It is something of importance Merlin, so I would prefer you not delay."

The warlock was a bit taken aback. Arthur had not spoken to him in that tone since the changes that had overcome them in the depths of a newly grown forest had altered their fate in difficult to define and still unforeseen ways. The King almost always treated Merlin as his equal now.

But Merlin preferred to go on an Arthur's servant. He had long ago realized that no position of power would give him the ability to be involved in every aspect of Arthur's life. As Arthur's manservant, he could easily guard his food from poison. He knew the King's schedule and it's changes. He could accompany Arthur without any questions being asked. He heard both the gossip of the servants and the nobles. And Arthur let him accomplish many mundane tasks to be done with magic, so his work had grown lighter.

So without much protest, Merlin headed down to the armory. Leon was attempting to look casual as he stood next to a wooden casket. He positively radiated pleasure as he explained to Merlin, that this was indeed, what Arthur was waiting for. In side the casket, was a package was wrapped in layers of rust red gauze. Heavy handmade twine enclosed the entire package securely. Merlin picked up the package, intending to leave the box behind when, he felt a twinge of magic shoot through him.

He smiled to himself and went on his way. Although he knew it really wasn't any of his business, it seemed that Arthur had ordered or bought some kind of magical object. From the heft and feel of it, it was some kind of mail. Armor.

Merlin's curiosity was piqued. Magical armor? Certainly, Arthur would need him to look at it. Perhaps if he took a look at it beforehand, he would have a bit more time to form an opinion. He could dispose of it, if the armor somehow proved malevolent. He reasoned that he ought to take a look. He stopped himself. He poked his finger into the gauze wrappings, after a moment more of interior debate, felt the familiar pattern of rings under his fingers. It was powerful magic that sang beneath his questing touch. Protecting. He decided it was enough to know that it was not dangerous and vowed to not look at it.

He continued on his way, heading up the stairs two at time to distract himself, but his need to know grew more intense. There were powerful spells on this armor, and yet it was incredibly light. He could feel the rippling power of the hexes beneath his magical awareness.

He could resist no longer. He dodged into a seldom used sleeping chamber, reserved for guests. It was dim overall, but the light was good near the window. He carefully examined the wrapping of the cords that enclosed the package. He intended to open it and then reclose it. Arthur need never know.

He closed his eyes, saying the words of a spell that would unwrap the knots. The covering slid away. It was indeed armor. A hauberk. It was made of mail rings of some very light-weight metal. It had an unusual dark grey color. The rings were impeccably even and no seam was visible, neither in the individual rings, nor in the overall hauberk. There were twisting loops of leather, twining the sleeves, the cuffs and the hem of the mail and it was from there that a hex of extra protection flowed over the interlinked rings. Merlin extended his hands over the surface, noting with deep approval, how it resisted his power. He had heard from Gaius that the Catha had explored the art of armor for their own magical needs for many generations. Arthur would be doubly safe in this armor, thought Merlin. He was thrilled. No wonder Arthur had looked so pleased as he read the news of it's arrival.

He repeated his spell, reversing it and watching as the gauze slid back across the shimmering surface of the metal and the cord wrappings knotted themselves shut once more. Merlin could barely contain his glee and he raced the last part of the journey back to Arthur's quarters. Leon's pleasure began to make more sense as well.

He slid into the royal chamber without knocking and tossed the package into the air, so that it landed with a decided metallic thump on the table. Arthur looked up in surprise.

He looked as eager as a boy to open the package and he immediately tore open the complicated wrappings, using his dagger.

The fluid, shimmering darkness of the mail glittered in the light of the morning sun. Arthur smiled in admiration of the hauberk as he picked it up.

"Feel how light it is, Merlin!" He almost chortled. He tossed it to his friend, who caught it deftly.

"It's yours, you idiot," said Arthur.

Merlin was struck dumb in shock. He shook his head in disbelief.

"What?"

"Don't gawk at me like that," retorted Arthur. "It's yours. And you will wear it."

"But Arthur, you know I don't really need armor. My magic…"

Arthur took a breath as if he had anticipated those very words and had prepared a response in advance. He launched into it, with a minimum of confidence.

"You can be killed, Merlin, just like any other man. I don't have time in the middle of a battle to keep my eye on you, so…"

"You've never kept an eye on me," laughed Merlin. "I am vastly superior at fighting from hidden spots, so enough with this armor nonsense. I don't need it!" He laughed as he spoke, but silence descended, despite his dismissal.

Arthur did not respond. He moved over to the embrasure of the window, looking down onto the square in front of the castle. He took another breath as if he was trying to keep his temper, but he said nothing.

Merlin felt a bit guilty, even though he was not sure why, so he tried to lighten the conversation.

"That hauberk is worth a fortune. The metal, the skill in the working of the rings are impeccable. There are spells of physical protection as well as spells against some basic magic attacks. Only the Catha have such skill in the making of armor. It's fit for a king."

"I know," he replied far more softly than was his wont.

"I thought it was for you," said the warlock after a long moment. "I was thinking how much safer you would be in it… I never…"

Again Arthur didn't answer, but he gave Merlin so pointed a look as he spoke, that this friend's words stumbled.

"That's exactly the point, " snapped the king after a heartbeat, but then he stopped himself. His voice, when he spoke again, was quiet.

"I watched you die, Merlin. Can you understand ? I can't let go of it." He paused, closing his eyes, as if he was in pain. "I still dream of it. There are moments, I can't tear that awful image from my mind. I haunts me. One moment, you were alive, Excalibur in your hand, magic power blazing all around you and you struck Ruadan down. But he killed you, Merlin. He killed you. You were gone in an instant, and there was nothing I could do. Nothing."

"Arthur, don't…"

"Wear the armor," said the King in a biting tone. He looked directly at Merlin then, and there was a rare plea in their depths. "I'm not sure that armor would have saved you that day, Merlin. I am not a total cabbagehead. But the thought of it happening again…" His tone softened. "Wear it," he said gently. "Wear it, so I can sleep at night."

Merlin reached down and lifted the liquid weight of the hauberk. It sang in his hands, the spells of protection alive and surging, mellifluous as water, adamant as the tides of the ocean. He did not want Arthur to see the tears in his eyes, so deeply had his friend's words affected him.

"She let me go, " he said after a moment. "The Morrigan. She let me go. She said you begged for the impossible." He paused for a moment, daring to look up at Arthur, and immediately wishing he had not, so naked was his heart in that moment. He was not sure he could go on, but he did. "She is a terrible darkness, Arthur. " His voice faltered, as if he could still see her eyes boring into him. "She is everything about war, everything. From the shining banners and the knights in armor to the madness of battle and the gravediggers and the corpses, she is everything about war. Death and starvation and endless annihilation, retribution; she is all those things. In her darkness, the Morrigan heard you beg for my life and she gave it back to you. She wept. And she laughed and she told me that it took a goddess to make me tell you the truth."

"Nah," snorted Arthur softly, as he gave his friend a rough embrace, flinging his arm around him as he had on that wondrous morning of Merlin's return. "I figured it out on my own."

"I'm not so sure, " laughed Merlin.

"Neither am I, " replied the king, sotto voice.

"I'll wear the armor."

He said the words so softly, that Arthur paused for a moment in disbelief.

"You heard me," said Merlin more loudly.

Arthur's smile was blinding.


End file.
